Contingency Plans
by Rutoh-Chan
Summary: Before helping his partner escape during Solomon HQ's attack on the STN-J, Amon first approaches Nagira for help hiding Robin. Just in case. A brief account of two men at odds walking for the first time on common ground.


Nagira leaned back in his chair, lighting his cigarette and ignoring the silence around him. The office was empty because it was long after work hours. But he was still there, as he often was, thinking about his work.

About his brother's work. About how different they were.

Amon was probably working late as well. Nagira did not know everything about what his half-brother did, but he was aware that witch hunting was more than a regular full time job. Just like smuggling witches and their families away from hunters was. Nagira wondered if Amon ever considered his own heartlessness towards his own kind, how his emotionless, selfish, almost murderous attitude was so like the witches he hunted.

Probably not. If Amon began thinking like that, he might not be able to do his job any longer. And his job was his entire life. He would never risk anything for it.

A door opened downstairs and Nagira noted a stealthy tread approaching the office. He reached towards his desk drawer, easing it open slightly so that his firearm would be easier to reach. He did not withdraw the hand from on top of the desk when the door opened and the subject of his thoughts stepped in silently, easing the door closed behind him.

"Well, this is a surprise," Nagira commented, exhaling smoke and smirking at Amon as the man glanced around the office, habitually checking it for danger. "What brings you here?"

There was a stretch of silence before Amon spoke in his usual abrupt, concise manner.

"I need your help."

Nagira stared at Amon for a long moment, letting the words hang between them. They were, to say the least, surprising.

"You… need _my_ help? I thought you had connections to most of my informants. I'll charge you at least as much as they will. Maybe more. And I won't betray my clients. Not even for you." _Especially not for you._

"I don't need information. It's a girl."

Nagira nearly dropped his cigarette.

"A problem with a girl? Really? I thought you knew how to handle those." While he chattered Nagira's mind began whirling, trying to figure this out. Amon approaching him about a woman? It was unfathomable. "I mean, I know you don't have anything like my experience, but I know you've been with at least some-"

"This isn't that petty. I wouldn't have come to you if it was."

"Well, if it's _that_ much trouble," Nagira answered with a broader smirk and a shrug, "You shouldn't get involved with a woman if you aren't willing to deal with the consequences. Is she just stalking you, or is there a kid?"

Amon's eyes narrowed and his signature scowl became more pronounced. "She's fifteen."

This time Nagira did drop his cigarette. He quickly reclaimed it from his lap, brushing away a streak of ash as he said in a firm and uncompromising voice. "Then I don't know why you came to me. You should know that I'd be on her side."

"We aren't together," Amon corrected sharply, his tight anger alerting Nagira to the fact that he was concealing something important. Amon never said more than he had to, but Nagira knew this was something big. "She works with me."

"A fifteen year old hunter?" Nagira probed, almost shocked. He knew some of the people that Amon worked with were young, but…

"A craft user," Amon explained. He hesitated then added, "My partner."

Nagira considered mocking his brother and making more suggestive comments about Amon's relationship with this partner, but held back. If she was a craft user, Nagira was already lucky Amon had not punished him for his comments. Which was another hint to how serious this was.

"And? You said you came for help. If you aren't together, what's the problem?"

"I've been told by headquarters to hunt her." Nagira ground his cigarette against the ashtray on the desk, his own gaze becoming as cold as Amon's.

"You don't need my help for that. You're something of an expert in that line of work."

Amon did not seem surprised that Nagira had heard about what happened to his last partner, but his jaw tightened and his cold anger became almost scorching.

"Robin isn't like Kate," he said firmly. "She isn't a witch."

"You said she's a craft user," Nagira pointed out. "Obviously your people think she's going off the deep end."

"They know she isn't," Amon answered, almost uncomfortably. "It's probably preventative more than anything. Her powers are beyond anything we've seen before, and they only seem to be improving. My guess is they don't want to wait until she's out of control before getting rid of her."

"And you're hunting her?" Amon looked away.

"I… can't." He met Nagira's gaze again. "I tried. I missed my shot. She isn't a witch. I can't hunt her."

So few words, but they gave so much away. Nagira was not close to his half-brother, not remotely, but he knew some things very well. Like Amon's detached emotional behavior. That he _couldn't_ follow orders, that it was beyond his control… "So you want to get her out. You need me for that?"

"Headquarters is tired of my excuses. They are sending a team. Soon. I'm going to get her out, but if anything happens, I want to send her somewhere safe."

Nagira thought about this. He thought about Amon, how he normally behaved. He thought about all the things Amon was still not saying. A fifteen year old girl. Young. According to Amon, innocent. And powerful. Something was different about Amon. It was a subtle change, but it had led to this request. A request to a man Amon had ignored for almost all of his life. A man who he held in contempt. A request to help a person he normally would have considered more like a monster than a real human.

"You're certain she's safe? If her craft is as powerful as you say, she might already be deteriorating."

"She isn't harmless," Amon replied after considering this. "She plays with fire and isn't always as careful as she should be. But she is perfectly sane." He hesitated and added, "Mostly."

"And you're going to get her out?"

"If I can. But I'm not taking chances. I came to you because I knew you could help. And you're going to get paid."

He withdrew an envelope from his coat, threw it across the room, and it slid into Nagira's grasp on the desk. A quick peek told Nagira about how much money there was and he had to hide his surprise. It was not a small amount by any means.

"If she comes to me, I get this?"

"If you agree to watch for her, you get it. If she ends up coming to you, it means I won't be able to reach you and pay you later. And she's a high profile Solomon fugitive. This contact could put you in danger even if she never reaches you."

"Won't your people be suspicious of all this money going missing from your account?"

"I didn't draw it from my regular account. The money's safe."

Nagira took Amon at his word. The guy had more contingency plans in place than even Nagira could keep track of. Solomon had connections, but Amon kept a few very careful secrets from them. And he spent his life tracking people that did not want to be found. If he thought the money was safe, it was.

"You really think I'll take this job?" Nagira asked, fanning himself with the envelope as Amon waited for an answer.

"You could never turn down a female in distress. And this one is a child." There was something about the way he said it that made Nagira think Amon was reminding himself about that fact that the girl was so young. His lips twitched, but he held back the smile.

"If I accept this, you can't hunt her."

"I already made that choice," was the calm reply. Nagira relaxed.

"Then you can count on me. Give her my contact information, and I'll see that she's safe."

"If something happens to me."

"If something happens to you."

Amon left without another word or a backward glance. Nagira lit another cigarette and smiled thoughtfully. Whether or not Amon got her out alone, Nagira was going to have to meet this girl. She seemed… promising.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed the short. My thanks to my beta, Will, who makes my work readable._


End file.
